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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23920783">No Good Deed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_E_Lover/pseuds/M_E_Lover'>M_E_Lover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Person of Interest (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Finch whump, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:47:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,077</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23920783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_E_Lover/pseuds/M_E_Lover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>From oddgit's prompt: Harold is shot in the crossfire after he and Reese walk up on a mugging in progress. </p><p>Elbows, you're going to want to skip this one ;-)<br/>And as always, my thanks to oddgit for being my beta reader and a really awesome friend!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harold Finch &amp; John Reese</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No Good Deed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>***Tissue Alert***<br/>There is no happy ending here, sorry everybody. </p><p>Thanks for reading. Comments are always welcome and appreciated.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They’d been in such a hurry to stop the brazen assault of an older gentleman, Harold didn't feel anything but concern and adrenaline at first. Not until his legs refused to cooperate all at once did he even have an inkling that something was terribly wrong.</p><p>Thankfully the young punk hadn’t gotten very far mugging the man and took off after hearing John yell into the long alleyway to stop him. When John shouted, the thug took off in an instant but not before blindly firing a round in their direction. “Stay with him, Finch!” John exclaimed and pursued the perp.</p><p>Harold attempted to rush to the would-be victim’s side only to end up stumbling towards one wall and falling hard against it. The right side of his body quickly slid along the rough, course surface of old bricks, until he collapsed sideways to the ground with his shoulder propped up against a garbage can.</p><p>John had almost caught up with hoodlum and was just about within arm’s reach when an overwhelming feeling, an <em>impulse,</em> made John’s long stride’s falter to a crawl and he looked behind him and back in to the alleyway.</p><p>When he caught a glimpse of his partner, it stopped him in his tracks. John turned on his heels and sprinted back to Harold as fast as his legs would carry him.</p><p>When he got to him, the right side of Harold’s head was scraped up and blood plasma seeped from extensive abrasions that covered his face while sand and grit clung to the exposed flesh.</p><p>John had gotten to him fast but when he saw the dirty grey concrete beneath his partner begin to color into a deep shade of red, he knew Harold’s face wasn’t the worst of his concern.</p><p>The old man rushed over just as he knelt beside his partner, staying out of the way as John pulled Harold up from the ground by his lapels to a sitting position, “Can I do anything to help?” the man asked anxiously, while John began checking Harold for the location of his injuries.</p><p>John didn’t reply, too worried for his partner and when he sat him upright Harold cried out. “Finch, can you tell me where you’re hit?” John asked him desperately, watching the color drain from Harold's face.</p><p>John didn’t have to wait for an answer, he saw for himself by way of the ragged hole in Harold’s waistcoat indicating where it went in. </p><p>“God, Finch, we have to get you to a hospital,” John said anxiously as he held Harold’s jacket open, getting a better look at the entrance wound.</p><p>Harold caught John’s hand and looked at him through blurring vision, “There’s no… ” he gasped weakly, his head beginning to slump as his consciousness faded. "there’s, no time John.</p><p>“Stop it, we’re going to get you fixed up. Stay with me, Harold.” John pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and quickly handed it over to the old man who was still standing by in shock, “Here, open the home screen and hit 3,” John instructed the man while he took his jacket off and balled it up to press it against Harold’s upper abdomen.</p><p>The man did as he was told and John’s earwig immediately came to life, Harold took a sharp intake of breath from the pressure John put against the wound.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Harold,” he said just as Shaw answered his call.</p><p>“What’d you do now?” she answered in her typical fashion.</p><p>“Shaw, I need you to meet us right away at the safe house on Anderson,” John demanded. “Finch was shot.”</p><p>“Shit!” she exclaimed. “How bad is it?” John took a few seconds too long, “How bad?” Shaw prompted him again</p><p>“Bad…” John replied around the lump in his throat and took Harold’s face in his hand’s to prevent him from exasperating his existing neck injury were he to pass out. “It looks like it’s mid-chest level,” he added soberly.</p><p>“John, I..” Harold spoke quietly, eyes closed… barely enough strength to utter a word. He gasped suddenly, panicking from something unseen while John tried his damnedest not to show his own fear nearly strangling him.</p><p>“I’m here, Harold. Open your eyes so you can see me. I’m right here.” John tried to smile and took Harold’s hand into his, squeezing the cold appendage.</p><p>“John, I'm…” Harold whispered anxiously and cracked his eyes open, “I can't..." he gasped, "I don’t, think I'm… "</p><p>“I’m on my way, John. Can you get him there by yourself?” Shaw asked.</p><p>“Harold, don’t even think like that, come on. We gotta move now.” John encouraged his swiftly weakening partner and felt an all encompassing fear take hold, something he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time... and it <em>terrified</em> him. “Yes, the car is near enough I think I can get him there by myself. Just hurry, there's a lot of blood. Get everything ready for major trauma.” </p><p>“I'm on it,” Shaw replied and closed the line.</p><p>John stood up and held his hand out to the old man for his phone, “I hope he’s going to be alright,” the man stated nervously, watching Finch's clothing becoming heavy with saturated blood while he was clearly struggling for his life, “I can’t thank you both enough.” John nodded at him, not trusting his voice to say anything more than what was necessary and the man walked away, looking back sadly until he rounded the corner and was gone.</p><p>“Listen, Finch,” John began as calmly as he could manage, for both their sake's, “I’m going to need you to help me, okay?” John watched Harold nodding out again and knew this wasn’t going to be any kind of easy. He got on one knee and slapped the left side of Harold’s face enough to rouse him. “Come on, Finch,” he said before rearranging his heavily sodden jacket and putting it back inside Harold’s to keep against the wound while he put Harold’s arm over his shoulder and levered him off the ground.</p><p>Harold winced when his body changed angles, grimacing from the position of standing more or less upright as hot lancing pain shot through his chest and he broke out into a full body sweat. He tried not to cry out again and bring undo attention to the two of them when they began to walk but it was almost impossible.</p><p>When he breathed too deeply it felt as though razor blades were slicing him up inside, stealing the air from his lungs.</p><p>“That’s good, Finch. One foot in front of the other, you're doing great,” John encouraged him but Harold knew there was very little chance he was going to live through this, he’d be amazed if he lived long enough to get to the car, but he had to try for John’s sake. <em>‘I know this will be a devastating blow to John, I wish with all my heart it didn’t have to be this way but...’  </em></p><p>Finch stumbled, coughing up blood as John tried to hurry him along. The pain was intense and quickly becoming unbearable, he didn’t know how long he could stay conscious, or alive for that matter, but he tried with every ounce of strength he had. “Please…,” he panted, “… Please, I can’t…”</p><p>“There’s the car, Finch. Just get there then you can rest inside,” John felt helpless and scared out of his mind. He could tell by the signs that Harold was in bad shape, “We’re almost there.”</p><p>John opened the passenger door and helped Harold inside, wiping the blood off his mouth before wadding his jacket up again.</p><p>He pressed it against Harold’s wound and pulled the seat belt over him to help keep it in place. John cringed when his partner recoiled, “I’m sorry, Finch. We need to keep as much pressure on it as possible. We’re meeting Shaw now, just hold on for me.” John could see the life draining from Harold’s face, his pale, clammy skin, and his breathing was becoming shallow and fast. “You have to fight for me. You have to stay awake, Finch.” Harold was going into shock and John was almost frantic now.</p><p>Harold’s blood pressure was tanking, he could feel it and he was getting light-headed and nauseous. “What, time… is it?” Harold panted urgently, “I have to… go, before she sees me.”</p><p>John finished getting him settled and ran around to the driver’s side and to his horror saw a trail of blood leading out of the alley to the car. <em>'Oh my God.'</em> he thought terrified.</p><p>“Where is Grace...?” Harold murmured, “I can’t see her…”  John screeched onto the road, hurrying to the safe house and most importantly Shaw. “She’ll be there,” John placated his delusional partner and glanced over to find that he was shivering now and white as a ghost… Harold was in shock. “Finch?” he said loudly, trying to get his attention, and help keep him awake.</p><p>John turned on the heat and leaned over to see that Harold’s eyes were closed. “Harold, come on now, don’t do this.” He pleaded and clutched Harold’s lower thigh and shook it vigorously. “Wake up for me,” he tried again while attempting to keep the car on the road.</p><p>People in other vehicles he passed were cussing at him in the rear view mirror but he hardly noticed, too intent on getting his partner help.</p><p>“Finch!” John yelled this time, fear overtaking him, “Wake up, damn it, don’t do this to me.” Harold took a deep breath, wincing as his lungs expanded. He looked around himself, he was confused and his chest and abdomen hurt like hell. He began shaking harder and John turned up the heat, momentarily relieved that Harold was awake.</p><p>“John?” he gasped trying to speak past the pain. “What… happened?” He moaned and looked down at himself. He couldn’t recall anything and he was in so much pain he couldn’t sit still. He reached for the bloodied jacket on instinct but John intervened, gripping Harold’s wrist, “It’s going to be okay,” John replied calmer than he felt. “Leave that alone.”</p><p>“But why…am I,” his words were cut off by excruciating pain through his chest.</p><p>“You’ve been shot helping a man from being mugged. Now just try to stay awake and calm, Finch. I’m taking you to a safe-house, we’re meeting Shaw and she’s going to get you patched up.”</p><p>“It's col…cold,” he said through chattering teeth, and raised his hands to his mouth to exhale warm air into them but that was a bad idea. He started coughing again and blood covered his hands and dripped down his chin. Harold looked down at them when his fit had calmed and stared.</p><p>Harold’s violent shaking and coughing up blood worried John horribly and he turned the heat on high to try to warm Harold and forestall the worst case scenario. John grabbed some paper towels out of the center console and put them in Harold’s hands, trying to get Harold’s genius brain from making grim conclusions. “That doesn’t mean anything, Finch. Shaw is going to fix you up,” he stated and watched Harold’s mind working behind his glassy eyes.</p><p>Then Harold remembered what happened. He remembered how bad he knew it to be. He stayed silent for John’s sake as he shook like a leaf and tried to wipe his chin and mouth as best he could. It was no use, he lost the strength to finish and his hands dropped in his lap, the bloodied wipes falling to the floorboard, soaking up some of what he’d lost in the car.</p><p>He looked over at John, with one… last, fond smile. His amazing partner and a better person, a stronger man than he could ever be. All he knew right now was inside this small space, everything else was unimportant. As he found himself slipping away there was only one thing he had to do before he said goodbye to this world.</p><p>John looked over to check on Harold and locked eyes with his partner, his best friend… his savior.</p><p>Harold dug deep and found enough strength before he drifted away to tell his own personal hero, “I will be forever grateful, to you John…thank you, for every...”</p><p>The last thing Harold Finch heard before he heard nothing more was an entreaty from John’s lip’s, “Finch, no! Harold, open your eyes, Harold don’t go… don’t leave me… Harold!”</p>
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